The One Love Collection

by Lauren Blakely

  I’ll think dirty thoughts as soon as we finish the dog walk, so I can make it easy for him. I should be a fertile myrtle right now, so hopefully this whole shebang isn’t too much of a time-suck for either of us. Women get knocked up on the first try all the time. My mother did. Why not me?

  Soon, we return to my building and head to my floor. As I turn the key in the lock, a voice calls out to me. “Hey, Nicole!”

  My shoulders tense as I hear my neighbor Frederick. I’m not entirely sure what he does for a living. All I know is he dresses like a hipster and is completely incapable of, well, anything. Last month, he asked to borrow Drano. A few months ago, he begged for baking soda and vinegar. Honestly, I don’t want to know what he does in his place.

  “Hi, Frederick.”

  “Hey there,” Ryder says, with a quick lift of his chin.

  “Hey, buddy,” Frederick replies. Yeah, he’s one of those guys. Everyone is buddy. Frederick strokes his beard and peers at us curiously over the edge of his glasses. He seems to remember something when he snaps his fingers. “Nicole. Any chance you have a plunger I can borrow?”

  Oh Jesus.

  “Did you ask the super?” I suggest.

  “He’s not around tonight.”

  This is when I wish I lived in a doorman building. “Sure. I’ll get one for you,” I say, thinking how incredibly unsexy this is.

  “I’ll get it,” Ryder offers.

  I shoot him the most deadly stare in the history of stares. Seriously. Because there is no way I am letting this sexy-as-sin man touch a plunger before he gets his hands on me. And it’s not like the bathroom plunger has gotten action in ages. “I’ll do it. You will not touch my plunger.”

  He presses his lips together to stifle a laugh, and I realize how weirdly dirty that sounded. “Your plunger,” he says with a chuckle.

  I open the door, unleash Ruby, scurry to the bathroom, grab the plunger, and take it to Frederick.

  “You’re a godsend,” he tells me, holding up the plunger with the stick end as if I’ve handed him the Olympic torch. “I’ll get this back to you in a jiffy.”

  I scoff and wag a finger. “No. No, you will not. You will not knock on my door tonight to return a plunger. What you will do is buy me a new one tomorrow. Good night.”

  I open my door, and Ryder follows me in, laughing. “That was fucking beautiful. Also, what kind of man doesn’t have his own plunger?”

  I point a thumb in my neighbor’s direction. “That kind of man,” I say, shaking my head as I head to the kitchen to wash my hands. For a full minute. I give them a surgeon-level scrub.

  When I’m done, I turn to see the most gorgeous man leaning in the doorway of my kitchen.

  Dear Lord, he’s beautiful, and I’m so not in the mood.

  From the dog to the neighbor to the plunger. But I need to get it up, so to speak.

  “Hey there,” he says, softly. Maybe he senses the shift. Duh. Of course he does. He’s not stupid.

  “Do you want a beer?” I ask.

  “A beer sounds great.”

  I open the fridge and grab one for him. I spin around to yank open the drawer with the bottle opener and I whack my elbow on the edge of the counter. “Ouch.”

  It stings.

  It radiates though my entire body. Gingerly, I cup my elbow with my other hand. In no time at all Ryder slides past me, opens the freezer, and finds an ice pack.

  “It’s not that bad,” I say, like the tough girl I am. “I swear.”

  But he doesn’t listen. He shushes me and presses the ice to my elbow. Great. Now I’m cold, annoyed, hurting, and still not turned on. Fuck my life. I lower my eyes because I just can’t even stand myself right now.

  “My elbow’s fine now. Thanks.”

  He sets the ice pack on the counter, tucks a finger under my chin, and raises my face. I meet his blue-eyed gaze. His eyes are so kind and so sexy at the same time. How is it possible? I’m going to need to gather all the scientists of the world to study this man. He drips sex appeal and goodness simultaneously. But then, there’s a distance to him, too. His armor never seems far away.

  “You okay?”

  I nod.

  He runs a hand over my hair. His touch is gentle. He looks back into my living room. It’s lush and pretty with a cranberry-red couch strewn with gold and silver pillows. Framed photos line the end tables. On the wall is a photograph of a rain-slicked street in Paris. Candles adorn the coffee table. I even have mood music ready to go on my playlist.

  “I wanted tonight to be sexy,” I say, gesturing hopelessly to the living room. “I had a whole playlist of Sade songs on my phone.”

  His lips quirk in a grin. “We don’t need that to be sexy.”

  His words should send a spark through me.

  But they don’t.

  My heart beats too fast. It’s a nervous rhythm. “I don’t feel sexy. I feel clinical and weird,” I admit.

  He nods. “It’s okay to feel a little awkward.”

  A new fear digs in. “Do you, too? I mean, it’s fine for me to feel weird. My pleasure doesn’t matter. I need you to feel good.”

  “I didn’t mean it like that. I meant I understand. This whole thing is . . . unusual,” he says.

  “I don’t want you to feel weird. I want you to enjoy yourself.”

  “Funny,” he says, running the backs of his fingers over my cheek, a soft, but wholly possessive move. “Because I want you to enjoy yourself just as much.”

  He grabs his beer, takes my hand, and leads me to the living room. Ruby trots by his side and plops down on the carpet as we sink into the red couch. He takes a drink of his beer. I take off my light jacket.

  It all feels so formal.

  “Ugh,” I say, then drop my face to my hands.

  I should punch myself for how I’m behaving. I’m a take-charge woman. For fuck’s sake, I asked this man to knock me up, and he’s willing to do it. I don’t get to behave like a brat.

  In an instant, I know what to do.

  I lean into him, inhaling his cedar scent as I dust a sexy kiss against his neck, since I’ve already learned this spot drives him crazy. I’m rewarded with a rush of air from his lips. Straddling him, I plant my hands on his shoulders.

  He wiggles his eyebrows. “So this is how it’s going to be?”

  “Yes, this is how it’s going to be.” I tell myself to erase the last awkward minutes, and I crush his lips to mine. He groans against my mouth, a low, dirty rumble of desire.

  I’m going to kiss my way out of the weirdness. I’m going to devour his gorgeous lips and rub my cheeks all over that sandpaper stubble. I’m going to trace the outlines of his sculpted cheekbones, and I’ll grind against his lap until he’s hot and bothered.

  I kiss him hard, turning the volume to high. I slide my fingers into hair that’s so damn soft, and I curl my hands around his head.

  I crush his lips.

  I own this kiss.

  I want this man turned on.

  I want him hard.

  I want him ready.

  And I need his swimmers to be in a good mood.

  Judging from the heavy press of his erection against my thigh, his dick is whistling a happy tune. But that’s not enough. I want his mind blown, and his cock nearly there, too.

  I scoot off him.

  “What are you doing?” he asks, his breath uneven from our kiss.

  “I’m doing this.” I get down on my knees and tug at his workout pants. “I want these off. I want to kiss your cock.”

  “Fuck,” he groans as he drags a hand down his face and lifts his hips. “You dirty girl.”

  I tug down his pants, then his boxer briefs, and then I die. I die a million wonderful deaths. His dick is beautiful. It’s so fucking gorgeous my mouth waters. It’s long and thick and curved a tiny bit to the right. It’s veiny and proud, and I must taste him.

  I bend my face to him and lick the head.

  “Fuck me,” he mutters.

  He s
louches back into the couch, his long legs spread open. I draw him into my mouth. He’s a little salty and so fucking manly. Maybe that sounds obvious. He should taste like a man. But he does, and it drives me wild.

  I wrap a hand around the base and stroke him as I draw him deeper.

  “Jesus, that’s good,” he groans.

  I glance up at him, and his eyes are closed. He breathes out hard, and the look on his face is gorgeous. In seconds, I’ve changed the mood from sober to completely intoxicating, and the turnabout is working on me, too. As I suck, I get lost in the rhythm, in the taste, in the feel.

  His hands find their way into my hair. He threads them through my strands and guides my head. “You’re killing me,” he mutters as I relax my throat and let him fill me all the way.

  I slink a hand between his legs, cupping his balls, and his whole body jerks. I’m ready, so ready for him. And that’s not just because we timed this first date to the middle of my cycle. I’m so turned on I nearly forget I can’t finish him off like this.

  “One more suck, baby, and then you need to stop,” he says, his voice a warning.

  I make it count. I swirl my tongue over the head, then I lick him as I take him all the way in once more. A drop of liquid from the tip slips over my lips, and I nearly lose my mind.

  He yanks me off him, pulls me up by my face, and stares at me hungrily. His blue eyes darken. He looks like he wants to devour me.

  14

  Ryder

  Clothes fly to the floor.

  As she sends the dog to her dog bed in the corner, Nicole yanks off my shirt, her hands traveling over my pecs. I tug off her black V-neck shirt. I’m ready to rip the rest of her clothes to shreds, but when I see the black lacy bra, my mind tunnels to complete one-track-ness.

  Must get her tits in my mouth.

  Nicole is a busty woman.

  It’s hard not to notice. I’ve noticed, and now I get to play. I unhook her bra and let it fall to the floor, and then I breathe out an appreciative groan over these fucking marvelous tits.

  “I could spend the night here,” I tell her, cupping them. Each one fills a palm, and I have big hands. Though I’d have been content with small ones, I can’t help but want to get well acquainted with these full-size beauties.

  I pinch her nipples, and she lets out a sexy yelp. I flip her onto her back on the couch, yanking her so she’s lying flat. I climb over her, straddle her, and bring my mouth to one delicious breast. I flick my tongue over her nipple, feeling it go hard in my mouth.

  “Oh God,” she mutters.

  Somewhere in the back of my mind, I’m vaguely aware that there’s no awkwardness. It’s vanished. This is pure lust. This is fire. Whatever weirdness existed a few moments ago has left the house. I want her and she wants me. I don’t have the interest to dissect whether it’s because she wants my cock buried deep inside her so I can give her my DNA, or if it’s just because she wants my cock buried deep inside her.

  Right now, they feel like one and the same.

  I reach for her yoga pants and shove them off. My hand slides between her thighs and somehow my dick grows even harder when I touch her panties.

  She’s soaked.

  I pull off her last stitch of clothing, and I groan when I see the auburn landing strip.

  “So fucking beautiful,” I say, then slide a finger down the hair and across her dampness.

  She moans something incoherent as I play with her sweet pussy. She arches into my fingers. I want to toy with her, to make her moan and groan and savor every second. I spread her legs and start to make my way downtown. I’m dying to taste her. But the second my head goes below her waist she grapples at my shoulders.

  “Ryder,” she pleads.

  I look up. Her blue eyes are desperate.

  “Please fuck me,” she begs.

  With a wicked smile, I drop my face to the paradise between her legs and kiss her softly. At that first touch, she cries out so loudly that I know, I fucking know, I will have a field day eating her out.

  She tries to push me away at the same time as she rocks her hips against my mouth. She’s all slick and hot, and wetter than anything.

  “Please. I’m begging you,” she says, trying again while she thrusts against my lips.

  The sexy woman wants my lips and she wants my cock. I flick my tongue against her hard clit, and she keens. It’s like a howl, and her dog gets up and heads over.

  “Shh, Ruby. Back to your bed.”

  Obedient girl. She does as she’s told.

  I lick Nicole again, and I could spend the night here, my face between her sexy thighs, her sweetness all over my jaw. But when I kiss her again, she grabs my hair, pulls me close for one more luxurious devouring of her wetness, then pushes me away. She stares at me, her mouth open, panting. “Please. I don’t care if I’m begging. I need you inside me.”

  I’m not so cruel that I can deny her any longer. I’m also so turned on that what she wants is precisely what my dick wants, too.

  “Reporting for duty,” I say, rising to my knees. My cock is pointing in her direction, and a sexy smile spreads on her face.

  She stares greedily at my shaft. “You’re more than ready.”

  “Get on your hands and knees, then. You want a baby, Nicole? You need it deep, and that’s how you’re going to get it.” I flip her over, raise up her lovely ass, and run my palms over the soft flesh. “I want to bite this ass. I want to bite it and spank it, and do unspeakable things to your ass.”

  She lifts that fine ass higher.

  “Guess you like that idea,” I tell her as I swat my palm against her backside, giving her a small teaser.

  She yelps, and I spank her once more then drag my finger through her pussy. She’s even wetter.

  And I get to feel all this slickness on my dick. I get to fuck her bare. That’s one of the best parts of this deal. “Have I mentioned how great it is not to wear a condom?” I notch the head of my cock between her legs and admire the long, gorgeous line of her back, the way her red hair spills down her spine, and how she’s ready. So fucking ready, in the number-one position for getting the job done that I’ve been asked to do.

  I bury myself inside her.

  “Oh fuck,” I mutter as I fill her easily. I take a second or two to breathe in hard and savor the way we fit. Her pussy grips my cock, and it’s electric. My entire body vibrates with lust. I pull back then slide all the way inside again. She moans.

  “You like it, baby? It feels good?”

  She nods, her head sinking lower into a gold pillow at the edge of her couch. “Soooo good.”

  “I want it good for you. This isn’t just about me coming, you know that?”

  She mumbles something unintelligible. Maybe it’s a yes. I can’t tell. But whether she wants to come or not, I won’t fire without her. Sex is a two-person operation, and I would never send a woman home unsatisfied. There’s no way on earth I’m going to be the only one getting off, even if that’s the end game.

  I grip her hip hard in one hand and slide my other to her belly then down between her thighs.

  She murmurs a sexy, drawn-out oh.

  This woman. She’s going to be so fun to play like a violin. Her body is soft and supple, and she’s so goddamn aroused. I tease at the delicious rise of her clit as I rock into her. In the back of my mind I’m aware that I’ve got a job to do, that in fact I have one fucking job, but I want this for exactly what it is.

  I want to be fucking her.

  I want to be buried deep inside her.

  I want to be right where I am.

  I swivel my hips and punch into her. Her hands curl into fists in the pillows. I rub her clit faster as I shove deep inside. The sounds she makes tell me she’ll be blasting off soon.

  Pressing a palm on her back, I slope her further. “Nice and deep, baby.”

  When I fill her like that, she cries out. I fucking love that she’s so far gone. Her pleasure matters to me. I want it as much as I want to give h
er mine.

  A bead of sweat slicks down my chest. I ease out so only the tip is in, and I pause there as if I’m holding her in suspended animation while I work her lovely, hungry, eager clit with my finger. She trembles under me. The shudder moves through her body, and I’m as sure as I’ve ever been of anything that she’s galloping to the edge.

  “Want to feel you come on my cock,” I rasp out as I sink all the way into her, and she shatters. Her knuckles go white as she grips the pillow, and her voice hits some kind of high note that I’m certain her dickhead neighbor can hear, but I don’t care because she’s coming all over me, and it’s fucking glorious.

  It’s the earthquake.

  In seconds, I’ve got both hands on her hips, and I fuck her hard and furiously as my own orgasm rattles free, rocketing through my body. “Coming so fucking hard.”

  And the sound she makes then, I swear it’s like a shout of joy.

  But I can barely tell because my pulse thunders and pleasure consumes every molecule of my body as I climax inside her.

  Where she wants.

  I’m sweating, she’s sweating, and now her dog is howling, too, crying out in unison with the two of us.

  And I crack up. She’s got one of those. An orgasm chorus dog.

  After I pull out, my first instinct is to look for the condom and toss it. I chuckle when I realize—no shit—I’m bareback and supposed to be.

  Nicole is still on her stomach. Her face is pressed to the side. Her eyes are glossy and her cheeks are flushed. I’ve killed her with her orgasm.

  “Hey,” I say gently, nudging her shoulder. “You need to get on your back and lie flat for a few minutes, okay?”

  She smiles woozily. “That’s the second position from your top five.”

  “It is. It’ll help give you a better chance.” I roll her over and the look on her face is such dreamy happiness that it does something funny to me. It makes me bend down and kiss her tenderly on her forehead. “I hope it worked.”

  “Me, too.”

  “Do you know it increases the chances a little bit more since you came?”

  “I think I read that somewhere, too.”

  “I did a little reading myself this week. Supposedly, it helps the swimmers reach their destination. That’s all well and good, but I’m just a big fan of you coming.”